sash___x ✨️

Follow along if u like f1, and stories

Writers profile-:

Name- sasha

Age- 19 (almost 20]

Fav team- mecleran

Fav driver- Danny ric obvi!!

Kinktober (25)

Love loss and stage lights [ln4]

Misalleneous

F1 birthdays calendar [26]

I wanna request a oscar x reader fic where [this might be self indulgent] but the reader always had a bad family and seeing oscars loving one just triggered somthing in her/them. (Whatever u wanna use)

A/n i love this so much! And im sorry if the readers arc seems relatable. Sending all my love 💓 and thank u so much for the compliments they encourage me so much!

LUCKY-

Summary-: you visit oscars family for the first time, and u cant help but feel jealous.

Warnings-: familyhistory.

The first few days in Australia had been everything Y/N expected and somehow so much more.

She'd been nervous stepping off the plane, nervous about meeting Oscar's family properly, nervous that she'd somehow feel out of place.

Instead, she'd been swept into the Piastri household like she'd always belonged there.

His mother had hugged her the moment she walked through the door.

His father had immediately started asking about her flight and whether she'd eaten.

His sisters had claimed her within minutes, dragging her around the house, showing her old embarrassing photos of Oscar while he groaned dramatically from the couch.

It had been warm.

Comfortable.

Easy.

And that somehow made it worse.

That evening everyone gathered in the backyard while the barbecue sizzled away. The smell of burgers and ribs filled the air as laughter echoed around the garden.

Oscar watched Y/N from across the table.

She was smiling.

Really smiling.

One of his sisters was teaching her their favorite card game.

"Wait," Y/N laughed. "The game is called Bluff, right?"

"Yeah," his sister said.

"So why does everyone keep yelling bullshit?"

The entire table burst into laughter.

"Because that's how you're supposed to play it!" his father declared.

Minutes later Y/N was leaning across the table pointing dramatically at Oscar.

"That's bullshit."

Oscar nearly choked on his drink.

His sisters were crying with laughter.

His mother looked ridiculously proud.

And for a moment everything felt perfect.

Y/N fit.

Not because she was trying.

Not because she was pretending.

She just did.

By the end of the night everyone was exhausted.

After helping clean up, Oscar and Y/N retreated to his old bedroom.

The house gradually settled into silence.

The distant hum of crickets drifted through the open window.

Oscar climbed into bed beside her and immediately noticed something was wrong.

Y/N was quiet.

Far too quiet.

She stared at the ceiling.

Thinking.

Overthinking.

He knew that look.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded.

Too quickly.

Oscar frowned.

"Y/N."

Her eyes squeezed shut.

And then he saw her shoulders shake.

His stomach dropped.

"Hey."

The first tear slipped down her cheek.

Then another.

Oscar immediately sat up.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

Y/N covered her face.

"I don't know."

"Talk to me."

She laughed weakly through her tears.

"They love you so much."

Oscar blinked.

"What?"

"Your family. They love you."

More tears fell.

"Your parents. Your sisters. Everyone."

He stayed silent, letting her continue.

"They look at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened to them."

Her voice cracked.

"They're proud of you."

Oscar's heart broke.

"They want you around."

Y/N wiped at her eyes angrily.

"They actually want you there."

The room fell silent.

Oscar understood immediately.

This wasn't really about him.

This was about everything she'd never had.

About all the birthdays forgotten.

The phone calls that never came.

The family that was supposed to love her and simply... didn't.

His chest tightened.

"Oh, sweetheart."

Y/N shook her head.

"I know it's stupid."

"It isn't."

"It is."

"It isn't."

More tears slipped free.

Oscar gently pulled her into his arms.

She didn't fight him.

Didn't pretend she was okay.

She simply buried her face against his chest.

His hand moved through her hair slowly.

Patiently.

"They love you," she whispered.

Oscar rested his chin on top of her head.

"I know."

"You don't even realize how lucky you are."

His heart ached at the pain in her voice.

"Maybe."

She laughed sadly.

"I spent all day watching them."

Oscar stayed quiet.

"My family never looked at me like that."

The words were barely audible.

"They never..." Her voice broke. "They never wanted me around."

Oscar held her tighter.

"You deserved better."

The tears came harder after that.

Years of hurt packed into four simple words.

You deserved better.

He let her cry.

No fixing.

No pretending.

Just holding her.

After several minutes she finally calmed.

Oscar gently tilted her head up.

Her eyes were red.

Her cheeks stained with tears.

"You know something?"

She sniffled.

"What?"

"My family already loves you."

Y/N immediately shook her head.

"They do."

"They barely know me."

Oscar actually laughed.

"Trust me. My sisters are already obsessed with you."

A tiny smile appeared.

"They are not."

"They absolutely are."

"What about your parents?"

"My mum spent an hour telling me how lovely you are."

Y/N groaned.

Oscar smiled softly.

"And my dad asked if you were coming back before you even left."

She stared at him.

"Really?"

"Really."

Fresh tears appeared.

But these ones were different.

Softer.

Warmer.

Oscar brushed a thumb across her cheek.

"You don't have to earn love from them."

She looked away.

"You don't understand."

"Maybe not completely."

His hand found hers beneath the blanket.

"But I know this."

She looked back at him.

"You belong here."

The words settled between them.

Simple.

Certain.

True.

Y/N's eyes filled again.

Oscar pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"My family loves me."

Then he squeezed her hand.

"And because you're part of my life, they love you too."

For the first time all night, she smiled properly.

A small smile.

A fragile one.

But real.

Oscar pulled her back against his chest.

Eventually her breathing slowed.

The tension left her body.

And as she drifted toward sleep, she felt something she wasn't used to feeling.

Safe.

Like maybe, for the first time in a very long time, she had a family too.

__×__

Miscellaneous masterlist

Synopsis-: lando norris had been sparking rumors with famous singer y/n apparently the story wasnt as wholesome as thought

__☆__

WISH YOU WERE SOBER.

__☆__

@y/n_g0ssip

Caption-: Lando norris spotted in clubs of his hometown Glastonbury with singer/songwriter y/n y/ln. The pair was caught by multiple eye witness being very close and intimate with one another. Speaking rumours of being togther?

Comments-:

@User 1- plz god let this be real!!

@User 2- this makes so much sense

@User 3- i love this please please please

@User 4- i dont understand how they even know eachother

@User 5 -[replying to @user4] y/n is very good frineds with Alex lecrec like besties, so shes in the same circles.

@user 4- [replying to @user5] oh ok thank u!

@User 6- i need this ship to work, thier personalities are so good togther.

@User 7- thier both so expressive and lively

@User 8- omg is that actully them!!

@User 9- not us basing a whole relationship off of blurry car hookup pictures.

@User 10- that pic is so blurry it could be anyone

@User 11- this is my roman empire

@User 12- peak unemployment >>

@User 13- if this is real I will be so happy!

__☆__

@noty/n

Caption- paddock flicks

@User 14- its always weird to me to know Alexander is besties with a famous popstar!

@User 15- the cheta print top is so pretyy!!!

@User 16- dose she have a show in Glastonbury?!

@user 17- [replying to @user 16-] no! Shes here to support sabrina! And then hang out with her bestie alex.

@user 18 - [replying to @user 16-] shes there for sabrina bro!

@user 19 - motherr!!!!!!!

@user 20- is it just me whose noticed or it been a whole year without any new music. I know shes on vacation after the tour but still!!

__☆__

@slut4lando

Caption-: screen shot lando norris and y/n on max fretwells close friends story!

Comments-:

@User21- nahhh what is this?!?

@User22- admin who are u!?! What are your sources!!

@User23- I need them to hardlaunch!

@User24- they lowkey cant keep thier hands off eachother wtf!

@User25- the way u can just tell thats lando!

__☆__

@maguiecorceiro

Caption-: suprise!

Comments-:

@User26- beatiful! Congrats!

@landonorriss- 🧡🧡

@User27- plot twist!!!!!!

@User28- sirr?! Excuse me?!?

@User29- this is wilddd

@User30- they look so adorable together!

__☆__

@f1newz!

Caption- lando norris spotted with y/n y/ln after hardlaunching relationship with maguie corciero

Comments-:

@User56- what?!?

@User57- this must be old right?

@User58- I cannot belive a woman like y/n! Is ok with being a side chick!!

@User59- shes such a slut!!

@User60- [replied to @user59] maybe look at the man whose in a commoted relationship first?

@User61- @maguiecorceiro gurl u seeing this?

@User62- guyss lets not belive everything on the internet!

@User63- I was at the same club and can confirm this actully happend.. I saw it!

@User64- y/n gurl!! Run!!

@User65- this is disgusting. I feel bad for maguie

__×__

@noty/n

Caption-: lately...

Commets-:

@User31- new music!!!

@User32- the body is tea!!

@User33- lando fumbled the bag so hard!!!

@User34- new music!!!!

@User35- cheater!!

@User36- if this is about lando! Im gonna kill someone.

@User37- ahhh! Mother posted.

@User38- the lore gets deeper and deeper

@User39- that new song is gonna wreck me!

@User40- y/n teasing music! Im not ok!

__×__

@f1wags

Caption-: the difference kills me!!

Comments-:

@User41- so like can we not bring women down?

@User42- one is mother!!! One is a clown

@User43- im sorry but maguie wishes!!! She was y/n

@User44- the angle, the posture!! Y/n ate this

@User45- can we focus on more important things?! Y/n teased new music.

__☆__

@noty/n

Caption-: stream my new song!! Wish u were sober!

Comments-:

@User46- screaming, crying, throwing up!

@User47- "take me where the music ain't to loud" sorry?!

@User48- the beat was so good but this was so sad!!!

@Alexandermalenalecrec- so proud!!

@alexandermalenalecrec- thats my bestie!!!!!

@noty/n- [replied to alexandermalenalecren] omg stawp!! Ily!

@User49- is there a music vedio!!

@User50- gagged!

@User51- this has to be about lando!

@User52- its so freaking sad! But the beat! Im sorry?!

@User53- mother ate and left no crumbs!!

@lilumunhe- bop!

@noty/n- [replied to lilymunhe] lol!! Thank u bbg!

@User54- stawp y/n rip my heart out at this point!

@User55- im shaking! This did not happen!

__☆__

@popmusic!lyrics

Caption-: y/n's new music vedio! Wish u wrre sober

Comments-:

@User56- this shit was cinema!

@User57- the concept of lando only wanting her when he was drunk

@User58- and then he left her for magiuie

@User59- this was so sad bit relatable to watch.

@User60- the scenes where she was in his bed and je was throwing up, like he was that drunk

@User61- the montage of her and the actor hooking up to the "i wish I wish I wish I wish" loop was so cool

@User62- i love lando but this was not it.

@User63- um?? Is anyone questioning why she hookup up with him again and again if she knew he didnt want it.

@User64- [replied to @user63-] it called being in love? Have some empathy

@User65- best music vedio ever!!!

__×__

@f1gossip!

Leaked text between lando norris and y/n

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•

Lando-: is the new song about me?

Y/n-: why is it your business?

Lando-: because I dont remeber us hooking up that much!

Y/n-: well we did, maybe if your werent shitfaced the whole time

Lando-: so maybe you should've relaized people that drunk cant give consent!?

Y/n-: dint act like I initiated anything! That was all on u! And I cant belive you acusing me of assault!

Lando-: im not!! I just- im in a relationship now so it dosnet matter

Y/n-: yeah! I heard! How is she by the way?

Lando-: plz stop.. ok if it was so horrible for u to be treated like a casual fling why did u keep coming back?

Y/n-: are u serious rn?

Lando-: ??

Y/n-: because I was in love!! Like actully in love with u lando!

Lando-: I dont know what u want me to say.

•○•○•○•○•○•○•

Caption-: the text seemed to be leaked from someone close to lando norriss inner circle.

Comments-:

@User66-: hate to admit it! But landos right!

@User67-: she said she was in love.

@User68-: I cant belive some people here think lando is right?

@User69-: I hate lando for this

@User70-: he dismissed her so casually after she said she loved him!

@User71- have lost all respect for lando

@User72-: seing prayers to y/n and y/n alone!

__×__

@landonorris

Caption-: keep pushing!

Comments-:

@User73-: not him dropping maguie again!

@LN4-: keep pushing champ!

@User74-: litrally hate lando rn!

@User75-: imagine what oscar must be thinking between all of this, he loves lando most!

__×__

@noty/n

Caption-: ending parties with silly faces and not regrets..

Comments-: @User

@User76-: omg!! Diva yess?!?!?

@User77-: I love her for this!

@alexanderlecrex-: ate!

@User78-: @lando I think she tyrna say smth

@User79-: my goat!!!

@lilymunhe-: gorg!

@User80-: motherrrr

@User81-: as she should!!!!

@User82-: love this for her!!

@User83-: by regrets u mean not assaulting someone?

@User84-: love u y/n so happy for u!

__×__

Main masterlist

Smau -: of differnt popstars with differnt drivers ☆°•○°●○°☆

🎙🤍

__×__

1. Lando Norris- wish u were sober

🍷💔🔥🛌

__×__

2. Lewis hamilton- thousand years

♾️❤️💍👰‍♀

__×__

3. Charles lecrec- run

🏃‍♀️🖤💧🩹

__×__

4. Oscar piastri- daylight

💌☀️🌷🍓

__×__

5-: geroge russel - frineds

🤍👭🧹🙏

__×__

🎙🤍

Hi my love!!

First of all skimming is fine, and never be embarrassed to ask or discuss somthing I would love to discuss my fics with u! And ive been getting so many anonymous asks about it. And that's fine but feel free to comment about it <3 this is a safe space!!!!

But lia was a beliver of love, its established vaguely that her dad also cheated on her mom and her mom pushed the idea that she will never be enough!

And that insecurity is solified into belif when she sees oscar kiss that rando chick! So she dosent settle for logan she thinks she deserves that and should be grateful he is stable. "He is stable! You are deep!!" (Hint hint for the last chapter)

Omg thank u so much<3 its coming next Tuesday..

Warnings-: mentions of drugging, some emotional manipulation.

Summary-: lia and oscar ctach up at a post shoot team bonfire and suddenly lia is left with confusion and the dread of realizing her whole life was a lie

chapter 6 "Little white lies"

The cool air of the office did nothing to extinguish the fire under Lia’s skin.

She slammed the door of the staff changing room and leaned her back against it, her chest heaving as if she’d just run a marathon. Her skin felt like it was crawling—specifically where his hands had been. The pressure of his palms on her waist was a ghost-weight she couldn't shake off, a physical brand that made her feel like a traitor.

What is wrong with you? she screamed at herself in the silence of the room. You are getting married. You have the ring. You have the life. Stop it.

But her brain was a traitor, too. It kept replaying the day like a highlight reel she hadn't asked for. The way he’d explained himself at lunch—the raw honesty of a man who had sacrificed everything to be the best. The way he looked now—no longer the scrawny teenager who’d left her at a party, but someone solid, defined, and devastatingly mature. He had a plan for his life. He had a plan for everything.

She had spent the whole day throwing Logan’s name at him like a shield, a constant, desperate reminder that she was spoken for. She was trying to convince Oscar, but mostly, she was trying to convince herself. She was trying to tell her heart that the fire between them was a snuffed-out candle, a cold wick, a dead thing.

Then he had touched her, and the candle had turned into a forest fire.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, a sharp, angry vibration. She pulled it out, her heart sinking as she saw a string of notifications from Logan. He’d sent a link to the sanctuary’s social media—a "sneak peek" video the crew had uploaded of the interview.

Logan: You didn’t tell me the interview you’re literally stopping mid-wedding planning for is with Oscar.

Logan: Are you planning on coming home or are you spending the night there?

Lia let out a jagged sigh, her eyes stinging. She didn't text back. She called.

"What?" Logan’s voice was the first thing she heard. He sounded bitter, the kind of sharp-edged tone he only used when his pride was wounded.

"What do you mean, what?" she countered, trying to sound exhausted rather than guilty.

"Why didn't you tell me it was with Oscar? What need would you have to hide that from me, Lia?"

"Because you get possessive, Logan!" she snapped, pacing the small room. "I knew if I told you, it would become a whole thing. I just wanted to get the job done."

Logan let out a harsh, dry scoff. "Possessive? Lia, I literally invited the guy to our wedding. If I were jealous, why would I let him be at our special day?"

"There’s a difference between jealous and possessive!" she shot back. She could feel the headache blooming behind her eyes. Logan’s "security" always felt a little too much like a fence.

She noticed it when thoer family finalized the arranged marridge

Logan started joking about how she dosnet need anyone in this world

Which turned into fights every time she had to go out

And ended with her now cutting of all her frineds.

Her bridesmaid was logans sister! And logans bestfriends girlfriend.

She had no one to confide in but logan. And she had found out very soon that he preffered it that way.

"I'm doing my job. I'll be home by midnight."

"Midnight? The shoot finished an hour ago."

"There’s a crew bonfire. It’s networking, Logan."

"Why do u need to network baby? Its not like yourbgetting promoted" he said

She felt rage prickle under her skin

"Excuse me?"

Logan smacked his lips "I mean just- were gonan get married have kids, you wont time to work as hard as u do normally. So what the point right now?"

For a minute lia felt stunned. At a loss for words

Logan, look i just- i have to go.."

She sighed instead.

"Ok but dint spend the night, i need you in my bed" he said at despite herself it made her smile

"I know, I’ll see you then." She said

She hung up before he could respond, staring at the blank screen of her phone.

She felt like she was being squeezed from both sides. On one side was Logan, solid and safe but suffocatingly present; on the other was Oscar, a ghost who had suddenly become flesh and bone, pulling her toward a past she’d sworn was dead.

She looked in the mirror, wiped the stray mascara from under her eyes, and straightened her skirt. She was going to that bonfire. She was going to sit across from Oscar Piastri, she was going to be "normal," and she was going to prove that she could handle him.

But as she reached for the doorknob, her hands were still shaking.

She wasn't just worried about what Oscar would do. She was worried about what she might do if he touched her again. the orange glow of the embers flickered against the dark expanse of the scrub, but Lia didn't feel the warmth. She felt like she was vibrating on a frequency that only one other person could hear.

She played the part of the happy bride-to-be perfectly for forty-five minutes. She laughed at the sound guy’s jokes and chatted with the lead cameraman about lens flares, but her internal radar was locked onto the McLaren-branded shadow moving on the periphery.

She retreated to the drink table, her hand trembling as she reached for a can of Coke.

"You really shouldn't have something sugary this late," a voice murmured beside her. Oscar was leaning over a bowl of chips, not looking at her, his profile sharp against the firelight. "Doesn't it make your tonsils flare up?"

Lia’s heart didn’t just stammer; it stalled. He remembered. Seven years of global travel, high-speed adrenaline, and thousands of faces, and he remembered her minor medical annoyances from Year 11.

"I’m an adult, Oscar. I can handle a flare-up," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Hey," he said, finally turning to face her. "Can we just sit? And catch up? It’s been so long."

The war inside her was deafening—Logic screaming leave, and Heart whispering stay. But then Oscar popped the seal on a bag of chips and held it out to her, a silent offering of peace. The buzzing in her head suddenly went quiet. She nodded, and they drifted toward the edge of the light, away from the prying eyes of the crew.

"You first," she said, leaning against a log.

Oscar didn't hold back. He talked about the paralyzing fear of that first flight to London. He talked about the monk-like existence he’d led—no girls, no parties, just the simulator and the gym, desperate to prove he belonged. He talked about the euphoria of leading the championship and the hollow, gut-punching agony of losing it because of a team strategy that favored someone else.

"I know that feeling," Lia sighed, staring into the dark. "Going in head-first, giving everything, and losing out. Not because you messed up, but because in someone else’s eyes, you just weren't... enough."

Oscar looked at her, the silence between them heavy with the subtext of that night seven years ago. He knew she wasn't talking about journalism.

"You know," he said softly, "the night I left was the most horrible night of my life. My best friend picked a fight with me. Someone assaulted me. I got broken up with. I had to leave my home behind. It was like in two seconds, everything I knew just... poof. Gone."

Lia’s head snapped up. "You got what?"

Oscar let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Well, 'assault' is a bit harsh, I guess. But that girl you saw me with... she’d been pushing drinks on me all night. I was out of my mind, and she just jumped on me. I didn't even know where I was until I saw you standing there. And then I found out she roofied me." He shrugged

"You what?!" Lia exclaimed again.

Oscar paused then.. just stared at her..

"Lia- I think u have hugely misunderstood this entire-" oscar saud but was cutoff when someone patted him on the shoulder and dragged him up.

"Oscar! Come tell us some stories aboit the track.. we have some huge f1 fans her" they said wrapping around him..

He looked back at lia once who sat there with the chips and a coke with a look of pure confusion.

When she relaized this conversation was interrupted for good she downed her coke.. threw away the chips and left.

Her head throbbed, her heart ached, and ger throath burned!

Dammit! Fucking tonsils!

Had he really been roofied?

The world tilted. Lia felt a sudden, cold rush of vertigo. She remembered Logan standing outside the party, crying, telling her that Oscar was "halfway to leaving her," that he was an arrogant prick who didn't care who he hurt.

Lia sat frozen. The story she’d lived by for seven years—the story Logan had fed her piece by piece while she was at her most vulnerable—was a lie. Logan hadn't been a victim of Oscar's ego; he’d been the architect of the fallout.

She felt a wave of nausea. She realized she was sitting with a man who had been framed, while wearing the ring of the man who had done the framing. The betrayal felt physical.

Logan was standing in the kitchen, his arms crossed. "You're an hour late. I was worried."

"I left at midnight," Lia said, her voice sounding like it belonged to a stranger. "It’s an hour’s drive from the location to here."

Logan stared at her for a long beat, searching her face, before his expression softened into that familiar, "safe" smile. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest.

"Thanks for coming home," he murmured into her hair. "I hate sleeping without you."

Lia stayed still, her cheek pressed against his shirt.

Lia woke up at 5:00 AM, the silence of the house weighing on her like a physical pressure. She didn't let herself think. Instead, she went to the kitchen and started on the waffles, the smell of butter and maple syrup filling the space. It was a peace offering to a god she wasn't sure she believed in anymore.

She brought the tray into the bedroom, surprising Logan as he blinked awake in a morning haze.

"Waffles?" he murmured, leaning back against the headboard with a sleepy, satisfied grin. "What’s the occasion?"

"Just felt like it," Lia said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She took a sip of her coffee, her heart hammering against her ribs. She hated the manipulation. She hated the lie. But she needed to know if the foundation of her life was built on solid ground or sinking sand. "You know, Oscar said the funniest thing yesterday. Said he couldn’t even remember what you guys had fought about."

Logan stopped chewing, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. "Of course he doesn't. He doesn't even care that much. He only cared about F1 and himself. He picked a fight just because he thought, he was better than me. What an ass."

Lia traced the rim of her mug. "You never really told me the details, you know? Just that it was bad."

Logan sighed, leaning back. He told her then—the same story the boy in the driveway had told seven years ago, but polished by time. He spoke of Oscar’s ego, of how Oscar had bragged about being "the one," and how girls had been chasing him all night.

"He kept walking away," Logan said, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. "Like he was making them play tag or something. Enjoying the chase until he got so drunk he couldn't even stand."

And there it was.

Lia felt a cold clarity wash over her. They were describing the exact same scene, but the framing was worlds apart. What Oscar had described as trying to escape a situation he didn't want, Logan had painted as a smug, arrogant game. Logan hadn't lied about the facts, but he had dressed Oscar’s actions in the most villainous intentions possible so he could feel justified in his own resentment. He had seen what he wanted to see because it made his own jealousy feel like a moral high ground.

An hour later, as Lia drove to work, her body felt like it was shutting down.

The realization hit her with the force of a high-speed collision: she hadn't been a reliable narrator to her own life. She had taken the worst possible version of the truth and let it define her for seven years. She had thrown away what could have been an epic love because she hadn't been able to calm down, to breathe, to simply communicate.

She felt hollowed out—the type of drained that only comes when you realize your entire adult identity is built on a lie you were too scared to question.

She pulled into the sanctuary at noon, expecting the set to be buzzing. Instead, it was quiet.

"Why is nothing set up?" she asked her lead assistant, her voice sounding far away.

"We’re sorry, ma'am," the assistant said, looking slightly sheepish. "Oscar took the whole crew surfing with him at dawn. It turned into a late breakfast and... well, it turned into a whole thing. He said it was 'team building.'"

Lia turned her head. Down by the equipment shed, she saw him.

His hair was salt-crusted and wet, but he was already dressed and moving, helping the crew stack heavy surfboards and haul lighting gear. He wasn't standing around like a celebrity; he was working. He looked revitalized, his laugh carrying across the red dirt.

"He’s really committed to the job, ma'am," the crew member added, sounding genuinely impressed. "He’s been great with the team. Really pushed everyone to have a good time before we started."

Lia watched him hoist a crate onto the truck, his movements efficient and focused. She remembered what he’d said at lunch about not doing anything halfway. Whether it was racing, or a brand deal, or... them.

"Yeah," Lia whispered, her throat tight as she watched the boy she’d misunderstood for a decade. "He doesn't do anything halfway."

__×__

Freefall masterlist

100%!!!

Request away! But if im not feeling that driver rn I might not do it.

But other than that go for it! We dont kink shame around here!! I write any trope im in the mood for

Soft, rough, d/s, au's, m/m, poly, m/f- u mame it!

Summary-: charles dates a single mom, whose daughter completely despises him. And he couldnt understand why. Hes trying!! He really is!! Until one night after a nightmare he understands why shes been so scared of letting him in.

Warnings-: death, descriptions of car crash, children involved in said car crash, guilt, nightmares, complex feelings.

Charles had never minded children.

He'd always liked them, actually.

His nieces and nephews adored him. Fans often brought their children to races and he always made time for them. Kids were easy.

Kids were honest.

Kids were funny.

Kids were—

Well.

Usually not actively trying to ruin his day.

Grace, however, seemed determined to be the exception.

The first time Charles met her, she was five years old and hiding behind her mother's leg.

Y/N had spent weeks preparing her.

Talking about him.

Showing her pictures.

Explaining that Mommy had a friend she'd like Grace to meet.

Charles had been nervous.

More nervous than he wanted to admit.

Meeting a girlfriend's child felt significantly scarier than standing on a Formula One grid.

Because this mattered.

Because if Grace hated him...

Nothing else would matter.

At first everything seemed fine.

Grace peeked around Y/N's leg.

Charles crouched down.

"Hi, Grace."

No answer.

Just enormous eyes staring at him.

He smiled.

"I've heard a lot about you."

Silence.

Y/N sighed.

"Grace."

The little girl continued staring.

Then finally she asked:

"Are you famous?"

Charles laughed.

"A little."

"Why?"

The bluntness nearly made him choke.

Y/N looked mortified.

Charles found it hilarious.

And for a brief moment he thought everything would be okay.

Then Grace asked:

"Are you leaving soon?"

The smile slipped from his face.

Y/N immediately gasped.

"Grace!"

"What?"

The little girl looked genuinely confused.

Y/N rubbed her forehead.

"We don't ask people that."

"I just wanna know."

Charles forced a smile.

"It's okay."

It wasn't.

Not really.

But she was five.

So he ignored it.

Unfortunately, things only got worse.

---

The second visit ended with Grace staring at him from across the dinner table.

Charles had spent the evening trying.

Asking about school.

Asking about cartoons.

Asking about her stuffed rabbit.

Nothing worked.

She answered every question with one-word responses.

Then suddenly she said:

"I don't want you here."

The room froze.

Charles blinked.

Y/N looked horrified.

"Grace."

The little girl crossed her arms.

"I don't."

Charles managed a small smile.

"Why not?"

"Because."

Excellent.

Very helpful.

Y/N immediately sent Grace to her room.

The child stomped away.

Charles could hear her crying from down the hallway.

And suddenly he felt guilty.

Like he'd caused it somehow.

Y/N returned a few minutes later looking exhausted.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not."

Charles reached for her hand.

"She's five."

"Still."

"She's adjusting."

Y/N looked unconvinced.

Charles wasn't entirely convinced either.

But he tried.

---

For months, Grace remained stubbornly opposed to his existence.

She tolerated him on good days.

On bad days?

Not so much.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm having dinner with your mom."

"Oh."

A pause.

"When are you leaving?"

Another day:

"We're going to the park."

"That's nice."

"You don't have to come."

And his personal favorite:

"Mommy and I had more fun before you got here."

Each comment landed like a tiny paper cut.

Not enough to seriously hurt.

Enough to sting.

Y/N always corrected her.

Always.

But it never seemed to make a difference.

Grace would apologize.

Then do it again tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the next.

---

Charles never told Y/N how much it bothered him.

Because what was the point?

Grace was a child.

A grieving child.

A traumatized child.

He understood that.

He really did.

But understanding something didn't stop it from hurting.

One evening he was driving home after dinner.

Grace had spent the entire meal pretending he didn't exist.

Not answering questions.

Not looking at him.

Not acknowledging him.

And suddenly Charles gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Frustration bubbling up.

*I'm trying.*

The thought surprised him.

*I'm really trying.*

He attended dance recitals.

School events.

Birthday parties.

He sat through animated movies.

Played tea parties.

Colored pictures.

Helped assemble ridiculously complicated toy castles.

And somehow he was still the enemy.

The realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Immediately guilt followed.

Because she was a child.

Because she'd lost her father.

Because none of this was actually about him.

But feelings weren't always rational.

And some nights Charles went home feeling rejected anyway.

---

Months turned into nearly a year.

Slowly, things changed.

Not dramatically.

Not all at once.

Just tiny moments.

Tiny cracks in Grace's walls.

One afternoon she scraped her knee at the playground.

Without thinking, she reached for Charles.

Only realizing halfway through.

The look of panic on her face would've been funny if it hadn't been heartbreaking.

Charles simply cleaned the scrape.

Put on a bandage.

And never mentioned it again.

Another day she fell asleep in the car.

Y/N asked Charles to carry her upstairs.

Grace woke briefly.

Saw him holding her.

Then rested her head on his shoulder and went back to sleep.

The next morning she acted like it had never happened.

Charles let her.

There were dozens of moments like that.

Tiny things.

Things most people wouldn't notice.

But Charles did.

Because he was paying attention.

Because beneath all the anger and resistance, Grace wasn't mean.

Not really.

She was scared.

Though Charles didn't fully understand why.

Not yet.

---

The nightmare happened on a rainy Thursday.

One of those quiet evenings where the world felt sleepy.

Charles and Y/N were already in bed.

The apartment dark.

The storm tapping softly against the windows.

Y/N was curled against his chest.

Charles absentmindedly played with her hair.

Half asleep.

Comfortable.

Happy.

Then—

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Tiny.

Hesitant.

Y/N immediately sat up.

"Come in, sweetheart."

The door opened slowly.

Grace stood there clutching her stuffed rabbit.

Charles immediately noticed something was wrong.

Her eyes were red.

Her shoulders shaking.

"Hey, baby."

Y/N held out her arms.

Grace didn't move immediately.

Instead she whispered:

"Sorry."

Y/N frowned.

"For what?"

"Interrupting."

The answer shattered Charles a little.

A six-year-old shouldn't have to apologize for needing comfort.

"Oh, sweetheart."

Y/N's voice softened instantly.

"You're not interrupting anything."

Grace looked toward Charles.

And to his surprise she whispered:

"Sorry, Charles."

Something twisted painfully in his chest.

"No, mon amour."

His voice came out gentle.

"It's okay."

Grace nodded.

Then climbed onto the bed.

Settling directly between them.

Y/N immediately wrapped an arm around her.

Pulling her close.

Holding her.

Only then did Charles notice the tears.

Grace's cheeks were soaked.

And suddenly she started crying again.

Small.

Broken.

Heartbreaking.

"What happened?" Y/N asked softly.

Grace buried her face against her mother's shoulder.

"I had a bad dream."

"It's okay."

"I saw Dad."

Everything stopped.

Charles felt Y/N freeze.

Just for a second.

Then she recovered immediately.

Pulling Grace even closer.

"What happened in the dream?"

Grace shook her head.

More tears falling.

"I don't wanna say."

"Okay."

A sniffle.

"I'm sorry."

Y/N immediately corrected her.

"No. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Another sob.

"I'm sorry."

"No, baby."

"I'm sorry."

Y/N kissed her forehead.

"This wasn't your fault."

Charles frowned.

Grace cried harder.

"I'm sorry."

"This wasn't your fault."

"I'm sorry."

"Dont say that grace."

Y/N's voice remained steady.

Firm.

Certain.

"This wasn't your fault."

Again.

And again.

And again.

The same words repeated over and over.

Like a prayer.

Like a promise.

For fifteen straight minutes.

Charles listened quietly.

Confused.

Heartbroken.

Watching a conversation they'd clearly had many times before.

Eventually Grace's crying slowed.

Then softened.

Then stopped.

Her breathing became even.

She fell asleep still tucked against her mother.

One hand gripping the rabbit.

The other gripping Y/N's shirt.

Like she was afraid to let go.

The room fell silent.

---

Charles waited.

Then quietly asked:

"Why does she keep saying she's sorry?"

Y/N closed her eyes.

For a moment Charles thought she might not answer.

Then she sighed.

"Because she thinks it was her fault."

His stomach dropped.

"What?"

Y/N stared at the ceiling.

Rain tapping softly outside.

"The accident."

Charles felt cold.

Y/N swallowed.

"The day it happened she wanted ice cream."

A pause.

"She threw a huge tantrum."

Charles listened carefully.

"We weren't planning to go anywhere."

Her voice cracked.

"But she wanted ice cream. So i told her dad to take her, just to get her to stop crying."

Silence.

"So she and her dad got in the car."

Charles suddenly understood where this was going.

And hated it.

Y/N looked down at her sleeping daughter.

"She remembers everything."

His heart broke.

"Everything?"

"No, her brain erased the after part, the people crowding the car pulling her out. Me showing up half an hour later.. the funeral that all is blank. But She remembers crying."

A pause.

"She remembers him driving."

Another.

"She remembers the crash."

Charles closed his eyes.

Y/N continued quietly.

"Her dad died instantly."

The words barely came out.

"Grace was in her car seat."

Charles looked at the sleeping child.

Tiny.

Curled into her mother.

Safe.

Now.

But not then.

"She couldn't get out."

Y/N wiped away a tear.

"She was trapped."

Charles couldn't breathe.

"She saw everything."

The room felt unbearably heavy.

"She was like barely three, and i- i thought she would forget- like how she forgot the rest. but she remebers it so vividly"

Y/N laughed bitterly.

"Her brain decided it was her fault."

Charles looked at Grace.

At the little girl who spent months pushing him away.

At the little girl who constantly expected people to leave.

At the little girl who apologized for existing.

And suddenly every piece clicked together.

Every single one.

She wasn't afraid of him.

She wasn't angry at him.

She was terrified.

Terrified of loving someone.

Terrified of losing someone.

Terrified that if she cared enough, something bad would happen again.

Charles felt ashamed.

Ashamed of every frustrated thought he'd ever had.

Every moment he'd secretly resented her.

Because she wasn't being difficult.

She was surviving.

---

"She's strong."

The words escaped before he could stop them.

Y/N laughed quietly.

Not because it was funny.

Because she needed to.

"You think so?"

Charles looked at Grace.

Really looked at her.

"Yes."

Y/N searched his face.

"How?"

Charles smiled sadly.

"Look at her."

A pause.

"She wakes up every day."

Another.

"She goes to school."

"She laughs."

"She has friends."

"She still believes in magic."

A small smile appeared on Y/N's face.

Charles continued.

"She still loves people."

His throat tightened.

"After everything."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears.

Charles reached for her hand.

"That's strength."

Silence.

Then Y/N whispered:

"I worry."

"I know."

"What if she never gets over it?"

Charles squeezed her fingers.

"What if she always blames herself?"

He looked down at Grace.

Sleeping peacefully now.

Protected between them.

Then back at Y/N.

"Then you'll keep reminding her."

A tear slipped down Y/N's cheek.

Charles brushed it away.

"You'll remind her every day."

Another squeeze.

"And eventually she'll believe you."

Y/N smiled shakily.

"You sound very confident."

"I'm a racing driver."

She laughed.

"That doesn't answer my question."

Charles grinned softly.

"No."

Then his expression softened.

"But I know one thing."

"What?"

He looked directly at her.

"She has the best mother I've ever met."

Y/N immediately started crying.

Real tears.

The exhausted kind.

The emotional kind.

The kind that came after years of carrying too much.

Charles shifted carefully.

Reaching around Grace.

Taking Y/N's hand.

Holding it tightly.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Just listened to the rain.

Listened to Grace breathing.

Felt each other's presence.

Then Y/N whispered:

"I love you."

Charles' chest ached.

Because he knew what those words cost her.

How much trust they represented.

How much faith.

How much hope.

He squeezed her hand tighter.

"I love you too."

And he meant it.

Not just Y/N.

Not just the woman he'd fallen hopelessly in love with.

But the little girl sleeping between them too.

The little girl who had spent a year trying to push him away.

The little girl who wasn't mean.

Wasn't difficult.

Wasn't broken.

Just scared.

And for the first time since meeting her, Charles understood.

Some walls weren't built to keep people out.

They were built to keep pain in.

And once you understood that, you stopped trying to tear them down.

You simply sat beside them.

Patiently.

Lovingly.

Until the person behind them felt safe enough to open the gate themselves.

As rain continued falling outside, Charles held Y/N's hand.

Y/N held Grace.

And Grace, even asleep, held onto both of them.

For the first time, they felt a little bit like a family.

__×__

Main masterlist

Thank u? Ig..

Cant tell if this a compliment or criticism 🤣🥲

I love your writing sm 🤏❤️❤️

A/n holy shit ignored this request for a like a month but its so yummy 😋 holyyyy yes absolutely I will write this thanks for the ask.

__×__

SEX, DRUGS, ECT..

Summary-: you and lando get high and and have sex

Warnings-: p in v, oral (m received), use of substance, nipple play, light praise+degradation, switch!lando, switch!reader.

__×__

Lando was never one for drugs till he met you,

It was at a club somtimes after a race lando saw you and instantly fell in love.

You were beatiful funny kind, kinda freak and a lover of life... what else he could he want.

About a week in he reliazed you dabbled in drugs, not an addiction but definitely a party tool.

Two weeks later you helped him get high the first time and he fucking loved it!

Its been six months now.. and u and lando were in his apartment on his couch making out while smoking weed.

You took a puff as he sucked and bit at your neck

"Fuckk lan" you maoned blowing smoke in his face as you grind down.

You could feel him getting hard thru his boxers and you were sure he could feel how wet you were thru your panties.

He sucked a purple spot on your neck before finally pulling away.

You smiled down at him handing him the cigarette-

He smiled and put it to his mouth taking a puff he release the smoke toward the ceiling.. before stubbing out the bud.

You pouted and started whining a little as you rolled your hips again, and he chukled..

"Come on baby I know my little junkie has somthing better" he said.. pressing soft wet kisses all over your face making you giggle..

You reach into your bra and pull out a small packet and hold it up as he smiles..

"Fuck baby" he laughs as u lean down to kiss him tangling his tounge with yours..

You open the packet and use your nail as a scooper snorting some cocaine yourself, lando looks at u waiting for his turn but then you smile wickedly..

"Take of my bra" you instructed.. he reached behind u and un-hooked the clasp..

"Fuck your gorgeous" he moaned as his hands squeezed and kneaded your boobs..

You smile another slow roll of your hips.. getting him harder and harder

You place some powder over your niplle letting it bead there on the peak.

And you do the same for the other one..

Lando looks shocked.. a little hessitant so you help him out.

you loved putting him out of his comfort zone- you grabbed the back of his hair raking your hands thru the curls..

You then smashed his face forward..

he instantly inhaled. Snorting the powder on your nipples begore mouthing at them

he took another snort from your left nipple and placed a warm wet kiss on the bud.

He pulled away tilting his head back making a o shape with his mouth

"Oh baby.. you getting high?" You ask teasingly as you move of his lap.. his hips buck already missing your weight

"Dont-" he whines reaching for u

"shh im here" you reasure him as u sink to your knees..

He looks at the sight of u and whined, lando always got needy when high.

you smiled up at your pretty boy before placing wet kisses on his boxers you could see how much he was tenting, how much he wanted you.

You mouth at him thru his boxers enjoying his needy little whines "hngg baby please" he said his hips bucking

There was now a wet patch of spit and precum staining his boxers.

You pulled away for a second just to slide them down leaving him naked on the couch.

And peppering small kisses on his tighs..

"oh my- fuckk" he sighed melting at your affections

You started mouthing at the tip and then with one deep breathe you took him down your throath till your nose brushed against his v line

"ahh holy shit" he graoned biting the back of his hand as your hallowed your cheecks and began to suck.

You pulled of for some air.. but kept stroking him with your hands.

"Come on baby I wanna hear you" you say urging him to take his hand away,he nods eyes screwing shut

"mhh ahh hngg fuck baby more please more" he begs.

"so prety when u beg lando" u praise as you suck on his balls before making your way up again enjoying the way he shivers-

You lick the whole length before swallowing him again and setting a steady rhythm.

After bobing your head up and down for a while he started twitching.. you pulled off then leaving him breathless and panting

"your fucking incredible" he said grabbing your waist and pulling you back on the couch..

he laid you down and put his weight on you-

You moaned.. "gonna be a good fucking girl for me?' He asked you nod..

"Words darling.." he asked biting at your stomach.. you whined feeling heat pool between your legs..

"fuck, yes a good girl for u lan.. please" you say..

He smiled helping you flip over on your stomach and moving your saking panties to the side..

"fuckk" you hiss as he cards his fingers thru the wet folds.

"Rough?" He asks.. you just lift your hips and jiggle your butt in respond..

Once he has your consent he slams into u in one hard thrust.. ripping u in two "ahhh fuckk" you yell, Feeling the burn and ache.

Your body melts as u sink onto the couch he lays his whole weight down on you

Wrapping a hand around your neck putting you in almost a headlock as he starts pounding into you. And you scream! As lando drills into your swollen cunt.

"Uh uh uh uh uh" he grunts in tandem with his thrusts

You felt the heat coil tighter inside your stomach

"Lan- hmm!! close!!" you whine..

"Just a minute baby cum with me yeah" he said switching the angle to hit the right spots making u whine

"Landoo hnngg" your clench around him-

"Yess fuck yess.. cum with me!" He said pushing all the way in..you clenched around him as you both came togther- Making a mess of the couch.

You took a deep breathe feeling your limbs go numb- he pulled out and pulled you into his arms.

"U.. Missy are a very very bad influence" he said pressing kisses into your temple

"I think u broke my legs" you responsd, ignoring his statement.

He only hugs you tighter cuddling you, as u drift of one the coch from exaustion.

__×__

Main masterlist

Thank u so much!!

Omg! Thank u so much!! That's so nice im glad u love that series

__×__

Warnings-: none

Summary-: as oscar looks for a escape he somehow ends up right next to the thing he was trying to escape from.

Chapter 5- "I love u, its ruining my life"

Oscar was practically vibrating with the need to be anywhere else.

When his manager had mentioned the conservation feature, it felt like a lifeline. Three days in the bush. No "egg-shell" family breakfasts, no accidental run-ins at the bakery, and no sight of that silver ring reflecting the Australian sun. Just him, a camera crew, and the quiet of the sanctuary. It was supposed to be his sanctuary, too.

He was standing by the equipment truck, squinting against the glare, when a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows of the main office.

The world didn't just stop; it felt like it went into a violent reverse.

Lia was carrying a professional camera bag and a leather-bound notebook. She looked official. She looked professional. She looked like she was about to ruin his life.

"Oscar," she said, walking up to him. She looked like she hadn't slept much—there was a slight puffiness to her eyes that he only knew because he’d spent years memorizing every version of her face. "I, uh... I hope this isn't too awkward. The sanctuary assigned me to the piece weeks ago. I’m actually really excited to be working with you on this. It’s a huge story."

Oscar felt the "Iceboy" mask snap into place, though it felt more like a brittle shield than a helmet this time. He gave a sharp, neutral nod.

"Work is work," he said, his voice a flat, practiced monotone. "It’s a good cause."

"Right. Exactly. Professional," she murmured, more to herself than him.

Before he could respond, one of the cameramen shouted for her. "Lia! Can we check the light on the ridge?"

"Coming!" she called back. She turned quickly, her shoulder brushing against his arm. In the transition, a stray lock of her hair grazed his cheek, and the wind carried a scent that hit him like a physical blow to the solar plexus.

Vanilla and eucalyptus.

It was the same. Seven years, a degree, a move across the country, a fiancé—and she still smelled like the night they’d spent in his old sedan, parked under the trees near the coast.

For a split second, the sanctuary vanished. He wasn't a Formula 1 driver, and she wasn't a journalist. He was seventeen again, his heart hammering against his ribs, his fingers tangled in that exact same hair—softer than anything he’d ever touched—as he pulled her closer, terrified and exhilarated by the way she tasted. He remembered the heat of her skin, the way she’d sighed his name into the dark, and the absolute certainty that he would never need anything else.

He felt the familiar pull in his chest, a magnetic ghost-limb reaching out for her.

"Whoah," he hissed under his breath, snapping his eyes shut and gripping the strap of his backpack until his knuckles turned white. "No. Oh, hell no. We are not going there."

He forced himself to open his eyes and stare at the red dirt beneath his boots.

He was a professional. He was one of the twenty best drivers in the world. He could handle a high-speed crash at 300kph; he could handle a three-day interview with the only person who had ever truly broken him.

But as he watched her walk away, his mind traitorously replaying the silk-soft texture of her hair against his skin, Oscar realized he was in for the longest seventy-two hours of his life.

"Focus, Piastri," he whispered, his jaw tight. "It's just a job."

But the vanilla and eucalyptus lingered in the air, a sweet, suffocating reminder that some targets move, but they never truly get away. The small clip-on microphone felt like a brand on Oscar's chest. They were sitting in a quiet patch of the sanctuary, the red dust of the Outback swirling around their boots. Lia was tucked behind a small monitor, her face a mask of professional neutrality that looked entirely too much like his own.

"Okay, just for interview purposes, act like you don't know me," she said, her voice steady but clipped. "Act like you wouldn't expect me to already know this information about you."

Oscar gave a sharp, clinical nod. "Understood."

"Name and occupation for the record?"

"Oscar Piastri. I drive for McLaren in Formula 1."

The questions started off easy—low-stakes lobs he could hit in his sleep. He talked about the technical pressure of the MCL38, the pride of representing Australia on a global stage, and how much he valued the silence of home. He was doing well. He was composed. He was the Iceboy.

Then Lia flipped a card. Her expression didn't just change; it disintegrated. She looked at the script as if it were written in blood rather then pen.

"Must have been hard," she started, her voice dropping an octave, "to move away when you were so young. Only seventeen."

The silence that followed was heavy. Oscar felt the ghost of his seventeen-year-old self sitting right there between them on the dirt. He took a slow breath, staring at a point just past her shoulder.

"Yeah, of course. It’s hard to leave behind your family and friends," he said, his voice hardening. "Everyone you care about, really. But it’s a sacrifice you have to make. If you want to get ahead in life, you need to pick your priorities. And that’s what I did."

He saw her flinch—a tiny, microscopic twitch of her jaw. She didn't like that answer. It was too cold, too final. But she was a professional; she finished the script, thanked the crew, and signaled for the lunch break.

The second the red "Recording" light went dark and the mics were unclipped, the atmosphere shifted from sterile to suffocating.

"I think you look at it wrong," Lia said suddenly.

Oscar stopped mid-stride, turning back to her. "Huh?"

She bit her lip, looking at the ground before meeting his eyes with a flash of that old, stubborn fire he remembered. "Well, yeah. Everyone needs to have their priorities straight, but priorities can coexist. You can do half-and-half. You can make room. Choosing one thing doesn’t always mean abandoning another."

Oscar stood there for a beat, then gestured toward a picnic table away from the crew. "That’s a good point," he said as they grabbed their burritos and drinks. "But I’ve always thought of it differently."

"How so?" she asked, sitting across from him. The distance between them was only three feet, but it felt like three thousand miles.

"Well, think of it this way," Oscar said, the words tumbling out before he could filter them. "I could’ve stayed in Australia and made a decent career just here. Like Logan."

He mentally cursed. Why did he bring up Logan? He saw Lia’s hand tighten around her drink, but he couldn't stop now.

"That would’ve meant balance, sure. But it would tie me down. It doesn’t pay as well, it’s not as valued... you’re not embedded in history, you know? If I want to quit—which I’ll have to eventually, because racers die young anyway—I’d have to do all that stupid brand-deal influencer shit just to survive."

He leaned forward, his intensity breaking through the mask. "But right now? Even without a championship, the investments I’ve made will have me and my family set for life. So when I’m ready—when I’ve finally found my people—I’m going to leave the circus. I’m going to come back here. I just... I hate doing things halfway, Lia. I couldn't give you, or anyone, a 'half' version of me while I was chasing that."

Lia looked stunned. She sat back, the burrito forgotten in her hand, her brown eyes wide as she processed the sheer, calculated weight of his life.

"Shit," she whispered, a startled laugh breaking through her shock. "That... that puts it into perspective."

Oscar felt a rare, genuine smile tug at the corners of his mouth. For a split second, the tension evaporated. He wasn't the F1 star and she wasn't the bride-to-be; they were just two kids on the hood of a car again, trading secrets over burgers.

"I guess you just needed to make it before you committed," she said softly, her gaze dropping to her lap.

Oscar nodded, the silence between them turning from awkward to aching. "Yeah," he whispered. "I just didn't realize how much the world would change while I was gone."

He looked at her hand, the silver ring glinting in the afternoon light, and the hunger he’d felt a moment ago vanished completely. He had made it. He was set for life. But as he looked at Lia, he realized he’d built a throne in a kingdom where he was now a stranger.

It happened somewhere between the burrito wrappers and the second location shoot near the kangaroo enclosures.

The heavy, suffocating "Interview Mode" Oscar had been wearing like a lead suit finally started to crack. It wasn't a big, dramatic moment—no grand apologies or cinematic rainstorms. It was just the way Lia tripped over a hidden tree root while trying to adjust her camera lens, and the way Oscar’s hand shot out to catch her elbow before his brain could give him permission to touch her.

"Easy, klutz," he muttered, his voice dropping the formal F1-press-conference tone for the first time in years.

Lia steadied herself, her face flushing as she looked up at him. "The ground moved, Piastri. Don't be a dick."

The "Piastri" did it. It wasn't Oscar. It wasn't Mr. Piastri. It was the way she used to bark his name when he’d beat her at Mario Kart or steal a fry off her plate.

He felt a genuine, lopsided grin tugging at his lips. "The ground moved? That’s your excuse? You’re a wildlife journalist, Lia. You’re supposed to be one with nature, not losing a fight to a stationary gum tree."

"I’m one with the animals, not the geology," she shot back, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there at the beach. She shouldered her camera bag, bumping his arm playfully as she walked past. "And for the record, I was checking the aperture. It’s called being a professional. You should try it sometime."

"Ouch. Cracks in the ice," Oscar joked, falling into step beside her.

And just like that, the air changed.

The next three hours didn't feel like work. It felt like a heist. They were supposed to be filming "serious conservation content," but they spent half the time descending into the kind of rapid-fire banter that only comes from knowing someone’s rhythm for a decade.

When a curious emu started trying to eat the microphone cover, Lia didn't panic; she just started narrating the bird’s inner monologue in a posh British accent, making Oscar laugh so hard he had to turn away from the camera to keep his "serious driver" face intact.

"Stop it," he wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. "The crew thinks I’m a professional, Lia. You’re ruining the brand."

"The brand is boring," she teased, leaning against a fence post while the cameraman changed batteries. "The world needs to know that the great Oscar Piastri is actually terrified of a flightless bird."

"I am not terrified. I’m respecting its personal space. There’s a difference."

"You backed away three feet, Osc."

The nickname slipped out naturally this time, and for the first time, it didn't hurt. It felt like a warm blanket. Oscar didn't pull away. He didn't think about Abu Dhabi or the championship or the fact that Logan was probably at home waiting for her.

They sat down on the back of the equipment truck, their legs swinging over the edge. For a long time, they just watched the sun start its slow, golden descent toward the horizon. The silence wasn't thick anymore; it was comfortable. It was the kind of silence you can only share with someone who knows exactly what you’re thinking without you having to say a word.

"You haven't changed that much," Lia said softly, staring at the red dust on her boots. "You're still just as stubborn. Still obsessed with doing everything perfectly."

Oscar looked at her profile—the way her hair was escaping her ponytail, the way her gold jewelry caught the fading light. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," she said, finally turning to look at him. "It’s why you’re where you are. I just... I forgot how easy it was to talk to you."

"Me too," Oscar admitted.

He reached down, picking up a stray pebble and tossing it into the dirt. "I spent a long time thinking I’d forgotten how to be this version of myself. The one who isn't calculating tire wear or looking at a telemetry screen. I thought I'd traded him in for a faster model."

Lia laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made Oscar’s chest feel tight for a completely different reason. "He’s still in there. He’s just a bit more expensive now."

"Shut up," he chuckled, nudging her shoulder with his.

She nudged him back, her head tilting to rest near his shoulder for just a heartbeat before she caught herself. The gravity between them was shifting, pulling them back into an orbit they hadn't occupied since they were seventeen.

For that afternoon, the seven-year gap didn't exist. The betrayal in the backyard, the drunk party, the silver ring—it all felt like a movie they’d watched a long time ago. They talked about his sisters, about her job at the sanctuary, about the way the Outback smelled after it rained.

They were back. Not as the F1 star and the journalist, but as Oscar and Lia.

But as the crew started packing up and the light began to fail, Oscar felt the world starting to press back in. He looked down and saw the silver ring on Lia’s finger, glinting like a warning light in the twilight.

The flow was back, the banter was perfect, and the comfort was home. But as Oscar stood up to help her with her bags, a cold realization settled in his gut:

Being "the old them" was the most dangerous thing they could possibly be.

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky stained with deep purples and bruised oranges. The crew was already dragging logs toward a cleared patch of dirt near the main cabin.

"The team's doing a bonfire," Lia said, brushing the dust off her skirt. She wouldn't look him in the eye now that the professional part of the day was over. The warmth from an hour ago was cooling faster than the desert air. "They always do it on the night of a remote set. You should come."

Oscar leaned against the equipment truck, his arms crossed over his chest. "Will you be there?"

"For a bit," she said, her voice sounding practiced. "But I have to head home after. Logan hates sleeping alone."

The words hit Oscar like a physical strike to the solar plexus. He felt his jaw tighten, his internal monologue screaming at him to keep his face still. Logan hates sleeping alone. He didn't need that image. He didn't need to know about their domestic routines or the way they drifted off in a bed that wasn't his. Every time he felt like he was gaining ground, she threw a wall up made of Logan’s name.

"Well," Oscar said, his voice dropping into that clipped, neutral tone he used for stewards' hearings. "I guess I’ll come. Better than rotting in my room alone."

Lia gave a sharp, jerky nod. "Yeah. You shouldn’t rot. Like Logan probably is. He’s been waiting for me to get back for hours."

Oscar stared at her. It hit him then, like a pile of bricks falling from a height. She wasn't just talking; she was using Logan’s name as a weapon, a leash, a visible line in the sand. Every time the air between them got too easy—too much like the old days—she’d drop the name to remind him, and herself, exactly who she belonged to.

It pissed him off. The manipulation of the moment, the forced distance—it made the blood in his veins feel like liquid nitrogen.

"Yeah, of course. That makes sense," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I’ll go get ready then. Change out of the McLaren orange. God forbid I look like I’m working."

"I’ll change out of the ugly wildlife uniform," she replied, her voice tight.

She turned to walk away when a rustle in the scrub caught them both off guard. A frilled-neck lizard shot out from the shadows, skittering straight over the tops of her boots.

"Ah!" Lia gasped. She wasn't scared—she was an Aussie, she’d handled deadlier things than a confused lizard—but the sudden movement in the dark caught her off balance. She stumbled, her weight shifting toward the uneven ground.

Oscar didn't even think. He moved before she could hit the dirt, his hands catching her firmly by the waist to steady her. It was a simple, plain, polite gesture. Nothing to it.

For a second, the world went quiet. His hands were warm through the thin fabric of her top, and he could feel the frantic beat of her heart under his palms. She was so close he could see the gold flecks in her eyes, reflected in the rising moonlight.

Then, as if his touch were made of live electricity, she almost pushed him off. She didn't just step back; she recoiled, her hands flying up to create space between them.

"I’m fine," she snapped, her voice high and breathless. "I'm fine. I'll see you at the fire."

She didn't wait for a response. She practically bolted toward the office, leaving Oscar standing alone in the red dust. He looked down at his hands, still feeling the lingering heat of her waist, and let out a long, jagged breath.

She was running. She was using Logan as a shield and the lizard as an excuse, but she was running. And for the first time since he’d landed in Melbourne, Oscar realized he wasn't the only one who was terrified of what happened when the target stopped moving.

__×__

A/n-: im back!! Did u miss this series??

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